


Double Your Pleasure

by annabagnell



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Birth, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnancy Kink, erotic birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 11:59:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabagnell/pseuds/annabagnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seemed to Sherlock that John had spent most of Sherlock's pregnancy at least half-hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Your Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello my friendly followers and randy readers. Here's one for those of you who've been hollering for pregnancy kink and erotic birth. 
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone who filled out my Google survey, your responses were so so helpful and encouraging. Thank you all for being dedicated readers and for commenting on the dumb kinky things I write and post. 
> 
> Much love, 
> 
> Anna B.

It seemed to Sherlock that John had spent most of Sherlock's pregnancy at least half-hard. 

 

Or at least, any time that Sherlock was in his range of sight, he had an erection. Sometimes it waned on its own, sometimes he had to excuse himself from the room. From the very beginning, when Sherlock's stomach just barely started to show, John's cock perked right up and greeted the sight. Sherlock noticed, of course, but to John's surprise, didn't scoff at his perversion. Instead, he encouraged it, wearing tight-fitting clothes and letting his hand linger on his middle for longer than was really necessary. And if his actions drove John up the wall, and more often than not ended up with John's prick buried deep in Sherlock's body, why, nobody was complaining.

 

Sherlock liked it too. Liked the way his body was changing, and even more so the way his mate reacted to those changes. He did what he could to exacerbate the issue, researching foods and supplements that would help him to have a big, healthy baby - and, thus, a big, round, heavy belly. Extra vitamins, proteins, and supplements kept Sherlock growing at a rate his doctor pronounced 'astounding' for his body condition prior to pregnancy, and Sherlock was more than pleased when he found out he was carrying twins. 

 

As the weeks and months passed and Sherlock grew swollen, heavy, and gravid, they began planning for the birth of their babies, both boys. Sherlock wanted a home birth, for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which being that he was intending to make the birth as pleasurable as the gestation had been. John conceded after several insinuations to that effect, and Sherlock sat back and laced his hands over top of his rounded middle, content to have gotten his way and avoided an argument. 

 

With the size of the babies - an estimated eight pounds each, the doctor assumed - Sherlock fully expected to go into early labour. He was more than thankful to see his due date come and go, and along with it, to watch John's prick grow in his trousers as the babies in Sherlock's belly grew bigger. 

 

Sherlock was chuffed - there was no other word for the feeling, really - when he saw 41 weeks slide by. He patted and rubbed the sides of his massive girth, feeling the solidity of his skin, the mass of his huge babies underneath. They celebrated the 41-week mark with Sherlock on hands and knees, belly hanging full enough to touch the duvet, John pounding into him from behind and coming hard and unexpectedly when Sherlock made an errant comment about how full and heavy he was. 

 

Sherlock felt the first hint of labour at 41 weeks and 6 days, an unfamiliar ache and tightness in his lower back that made him sigh and cradle his low belly. John was sitting in his chair across the living room, pretending that he'd been surfing the internet when really he was just watching Sherlock's slow waddle back and forth behind the sofa. With both hands on his lower back, pushing his stomach out even further, Sherlock looked far more pregnant than any person had the right to be. John's cock agreed, twitching in his pants when Sherlock moaned and moved a hand to rub his stomach. 

 

"Alright, Sherlock?" John inquired, closing his laptop and sitting forward in his chair. 

 

Sherlock nodded and closed his eyes briefly. "Might be in labour," he sighed, stopping in his well-worn path to breathe for a few moments. 

 

"Wouldn't be surprised," John said with a sympathetic smile. "Nearly two weeks overdue with twins, you shouldn't even still be pregnant." 

 

"I won't be for much longer.” Sherlock rolled his eyes into the back of his head and huffed a breath. “God, yes, that was - this is a contraction." 

 

John's prick jumped but he ignored it for now, pushing himself to his feet and stretching, looking Sherlock up and down. "Anything I can do to help?" 

 

"Go run the bath, I suppose. Might sit in the tub for a little while. Early stages will take the longest." 

 

"Oh, alright," John said, a little disappointed. He turned to walk to the bath when he heard Sherlock's chuckle behind him. 

 

"Don't be daft, John." When John turned to look at Sherlock, the man had a wicked smile spread across his face. "You're getting in with me." 

 

* * *

 

 

Sherlock sighed as he lowered himself into the bath tub, his heavy belly buoyed by the water. The crest of his stomach was above the water line, and he cupped his hands in the water and spread it across the surface, watching the water run in rivulets down his sides. 

 

John sat on the edge of the tub, occasionally running a hand over Sherlock's middle when his mate let his head fall back, moaning as he rode out a contraction. Eventually, he noticed that less and less of Sherlock's belly was showing over the top of the water, but Sherlock hadn't slouched. "Are they dropping, then?" he asked, and Sherlock swallowed and nodded. 

 

"I can feel it," he murmured, and opened his eyes to gaze down at his stomach. "The contractions haven't been forceful yet, but I can feel them moving down. God, it's tight," he moaned, both hands running over his belly as tension swept over him once more. 

 

Acting on base instinct, John reached down and cupped one of Sherlock's breasts, rolling the nipple between his finger and thumb. He was surprised when Sherlock's eyes shot open and a surprised noise of pleasure fell from his lips. 

 

"Release of oxytocin from nipple stimulation. Good, John, I hadn't thought of that yet. Keep going." John smiled and continued, switching to the opposite nipple when the first was pebbled and hard between his fingers. 

 

When the bathwater began to chill, and goosebumps erupted on the exposed surfaces of Sherlock's skin, John pulled the plug on the tub and hauled Sherlock up out of the water as it began to drain. "Get you dried off, and then - oh wow, Sherlock, they did drop." 

 

Sherlock looked down and ran a hand over the side of his stomach. "Yes, they did. It'll be a trick getting out of the tub." With John's assistance, he managed to hike his leg high enough to step out of the bath, his belly hard against his thigh as he pressed against it. He couldn't help but moan as another contraction tightened his stomach, moving his first baby down into the birth canal. 

 

John's prick, having mostly softened while Sherlock was in the bath, twitched back to life when he heard Sherlock's pained moan. Sherlock reached out for John's hand and gritted his teeth, squeezing John's palm between his long fingers. "Fuck," Sherlock grunted, breathing heavily as the contraction released. 

 

"So…what now?" John asked, and Sherlock opened his eyes and smiled briefly as he took in John's tented trousers. 

 

"I think it's time for a little manual stimulation." 

 

* * *

 

 

Minutes later, Sherlock was dried off and John was stripping the sheets from the bed, laying down a rubber pad and putting an older sheet set on top. "What's, erm, the best way to…" 

 

"Fuck me?" Sherlock finished, leaning heavily against the wall. "I'm too far gone for riding your cock, so it's probably best that I lay on my back and you take me that way. Shame; gravity would be on my side if I could ride you. Nevertheless-" Sherlock cut off as another contraction tightened his middle. "Bit too heavy and low to do it that way," he finished with a whoosh. 

 

"Right," John stammered. "So, erm, I'll help you lay down, and uh." 

 

"Actions, John, speak louder than words." Sherlock pushed away from the wall and waddled heavily - almost a stagger, he thought, with his belly so low and full - over to the bed. He eased himself onto the mattress and pushed himself up until he felt the pillows brushing his shoulders. Pushing his hips up so John could stack pillows under, Sherlock reached both hands down to caress his bulging stomach. 

 

"Fuck, Sherlock, I'm not gonna last long with you like this -" John groaned, removing his shirt and trousers and staring down at Sherlock. 

 

"I'm not concerned with stamina this time. Just your cock, in my arse, moving labour along." He smiled when John gave his reddened, hard cock a few strokes and climbed onto the bed. 

 

John was surprised to find that Sherlock was open and stretched, and was trying to decide whether to comment when Sherlock sighed and answered his unasked question. "I'm dilating, John. I'll be pushing a baby out of that orifice within a few hours." John's eyes widened and Sherlock grinned, the expression on his mate's face unexpectedly rewarding. 

 

"So I'll just go ahead, then," John said, sounding strained, and pushed one of Sherlock's legs up until it met the resistance of his swollen middle. He lined himself up, and with a quick glance up to Sherlock, he pushed in. 

 

Expletives fell simultaneously from both their lips as the sensation of filling and being filled washed over them. Sherlock's hands tightened on his belly and he groaned as he felt another contraction building, and as his body contracted, John moaned and stilled in the tight passage. "Jesus," John breathed, the tightness almost painful. 

 

"Imagine how it feels on my end," Sherlock breathed, and encouraged John to keep moving. John complied, starting a slow in and out motion and gradually speeding up. He managed to keep pace through the next two contractions, now only five minutes apart, but when the third hit, Sherlock howled. 

 

John immediately stilled and looked down, concerned, at his mate. "Fuck, I can feel it moving down, John. I need to come, please, keep going." John furrowed his brow and started up again, the sharp sound of flesh smacking flesh sounding from their joined bodies. 

 

Sherlock's body was tightening, he could feel the pressure building and the sensations crept into his limbs and took hold as the labour progressed. He felt tight even during the gap between contractions, and the feeling of John moving in and out of him was almost approaching painful as his body became more sensitive. He reached down to take his cock in hand and started to stroke furiously, his wrist hitting his stomach with each pull. "I'm going to come, John," he cried out as his belly tightened again, and John pounded into his body even faster and Sherlock finally came. His prick jerked in his hand and come hit the base of his belly, painting his stretch-marked skin. His body shook with orgasm and the force of the contraction, and he hoped that John would finish soon, because god he could feel it moving down -

 

John pulled out of Sherlock's oversensitive body and took his prick in his fist, only a few jerks of his hand needed before he too came and added his ejaculate to the drips on Sherlock's belly. "Fuck, Sherlock, you were so tight-" 

 

Sherlock howled and felt a release of pressure and a sudden wetness spread across his thighs. "Waters broke," he hissed, and grabbed his belly with both hands as the fluid rushed from his body. "God, they're coming." 

 

John wiped the sweat from his brow and slid off the bed, grabbing a towel from the pile on the bedside table and spreading it under Sherlock's legs before pulling the soaked pillows from beneath his hips. "Do you need to push yet?" he asked, tossing the cushions aside to be thrown out later. 

 

"Not yet, but god, I need to move," Sherlock moaned, trying to push himself up but finding that his motion was severely limited as the babies had shifted even further down. Thankfully, John rushed to his aid and helped Sherlock to stand, rubbing his belly as Sherlock clutched his shoulders. "Christ, it's so _hard_ ," he grunted, his hips grinding and aching as he walked forward. 

 

"I know, love. I'm sorry," John comforted, and took in a strange light in Sherlock's eyes. "You're thinking about something. What is it?" 

 

"I have an idea." 

 

"Oh, god." 

 

* * *

 

 

Sherlock cried out in ecstasy as a contraction gripped his stomach, his arms braced against the wall and stance wide. John shook his head and looked on in bemusement. "Explain to me how this works again?" 

 

"Pain and pleasure are in the same receptors as the brain, so if I convince my brain that the pain I'm feeling is pleasure it makes everything feel sooooo gooooood." Sherlock's voice dropped and he heaved several terribly aroused breaths as the contraction let up. "Christ, I can't wait until I start _pushing,"_ he said eagerly. 

 

Sherlock was relieved when he finally did feel the urge to push, and the pleasure absolutely radiated outwards from his groin as the pressure increased. "Fuck, everything's so tight oh my _god_ ," he panted, and slid down into a squat. "I could come just from this, jesus. Rub my belly, John, I want it," he moaned, and John's cock gave another twitch of renewed arousal at the noise of pleasure Sherlock made when he gave a short experimental push. 

 

"Oh my god, it's so big," Sherlock breathed, pushing harder with the next contraction. "Stretching _everything,_ this is glorious _thank you, John._ " He cried out when John slipped a hand up to fondle his breast, his prick filling with blood again and growing hard at the onslaught of sensation. 

 

"Christ, are you actually getting off on this?" John asked, in absolute wonder at how Sherlock was reacting to the changes in his body. Sherlock nodded and moaned low in his throat as he felt the first baby's head starting to stretch his birth canal. "Fantastic," John breathed. 

 

* * *

 

 

Sherlock was absolutely wailing with pleasure, writhing on the mattress and it was all John could do not to reach a hand in his pants and jerk off watching his mate push out their first baby. It was nearly crowning, John could see the dark hair through the stretched opening. Sherlock bore down hard and his cock slapped against his firm belly, leaving a dab of pre-come on the stretched skin. His long fingers scrabbled in the sheets and John was fairly certain he'd never made Sherlock feel this good. 

 

Sherlock could have cried with desperate arousal the longer he pushed, all the pain receptors in his brain switched off and pumping pleasure pheromones through his system. The baby crowning was ten times better than prostate stimulation, and he almost came when, with a sudden feeling of strange emptiness, the head emerged. He very faintly heard John telling him that there was no cord before he was pushing again, searching for that feeling of fullness and crying out when the shoulders stretched him even more. 

 

"Oh christ John, I can't describe how good it feels it's like a sustained full-body orgasm, I don't ever want it to end," Sherlock babbled, tossing his head against the sheets and straining around the baby's massive shoulders. "It's so big I feel so full, oh god I'm going to come soon, oh my _fuck!_ " he shouted. His body expelled his first baby, but Sherlock hardly felt the emptiness as he orgasmed and the sensation swept clear out to his fingers, almost mind-numbing in its pleasure. He heard John's joyful exclamation at the birth of their first son, and when his mate handed him his baby, Sherlock was still breathing hard and sparks were flying in front of his eyes. "God, it's huge," he breathed, and held the infant close. John's fingers brushed its wet locks from its forehead, and Sherlock smiled, watching his newborn son smack his tiny lips and curl his fingers into fists. 

 

The sensation of suckling was a dull pleasure compared to birthing, but Sherlock could feel his prick stirring in arousal once more as his son drank from his breast. He could also feel his second baby moving down, and John's hands prodded all around his belly, sending tendrils of delicious sensation to his groin once more. 

 

At Sherlock's side, palpating his abdomen as he watched their firstborn son suckle, John thought he'd never seen Sherlock so sated in his entire life. The man looked post-orgasmic, but not tired, and John couldn't help but notice when his mate's cock started to stir once more. "Contracting again?" he inquired, and Sherlock looked up, eyes almost glazed over with residual pleasure. 

 

"It feels _wonderful,_ John," Sherlock sighed blissfully, inhaling sharply when his stomach tightened again. "You've no idea." 

 

"Apparently not," John agreed, and took the baby when Sherlock handed it to him. He wrapped the sleepy infant in a blanket and burped it, taking a few moments to admire his newborn son's tiny face and decide which bits were him and which Sherlock. The hair and lips, obviously, but John thought maybe the baby had his nose and ears. The infant snuffled quietly and John smiled, sliding slowly off the mattress and disappearing to the bath for a moment. 

 

Sherlock looked up when John came back in, taking in his mate's slightly incredulous expression. "What is it?" 

 

"Your son weighs nine pounds, six ounces, Sherlock, and you pushed him out like nothing had ever felt better in your life." 

 

"God." Sherlock breathed, and sighed wistfully. "I hope the next one's ten pounds. I may die of pleasure." 

 

* * *

 

 

Sherlock had a screaming orgasm when his second son crowned, and the force of sensation had him still writhing with pleasure when the shoulders broke free and the baby slid out of his body. He was oversensitive, John's touches and the baby's lips on his nipple very nearly bringing him off again not ten minutes later. 

 

When John took their second son from Sherlock's weak arms, Sherlock slumped on the bed, breathing gradually evening out. "I want to be pregnant again, as soon as possible," he sighed, running a hand over his stomach and breath hitching as his nerves sizzled under his skin. 

 

John chuckled and went to weigh their second son, and he looked slightly dazed when he reappeared. "Congratulations," he murmured. "Ten pounds, one ounce. You just delivered nineteen pounds of baby." 

 

"Triplets, next time. We're going to have triplets." 

 

With both babies sound asleep in their bassinets, Sherlock smiled and watched and encouraged as John came to the thought of Sherlock's belly already swollen with their next brood. "Or perhaps quads," Sherlock said as John laid down next to him. John only sighed. 


End file.
